As Stuart Bloom In TBBT Chapter 66: The Penny Acting Callback

Novel: As Stuart Bloom In TBBT Author: WhatIf4132 Updated: Jun 03, 2026

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Now reading: Chapter 66: The Penny Acting Callback from As Stuart Bloom In TBBT, a Adventure novel by WhatIf4132.

Penny's vibrating.

Not figuratively. Actually bouncing on the balls of her feet in her apartnt doorway.

"I got a callback."

"That's great! For what?"

"Off-Broadway. Real Off-Broadway, not like—experintal basent theater. Actual production. Six-month run." The words tumble out. "They want to audition in person. In New York. Next month."

"Penny, that's incredible."

"It's THE Moon Over Buffalo. Classic farce. Supporting role but with actual lines and stage ti and—Stuart, this is real."

She launches herself at . I catch her. She's laughing and crying simultaneously.

"When do you go?"

"Audition's November fifteenth. If I get it—" She pulls back, face glowing. "—rehearsals start January. Six-month run February through August."

"That's—"

That's her moving to New York for six months.

"—amazing," I finish.

"I know! I can't believe they called . My agent says the director rembered from that showcase last year. The one I thought bombed? Apparently he loved my energy." She's pacing now, electric. "This is what I've been waiting for. Actual theater. The thing I ca to LA to eventually do but bigger."

"We should celebrate."

"Yes! Wine. Dancing. Bad decisions. All of it."

She grabs wine from her fridge. I find glasses. We toast.

"To Penny. Future Off-Broadway star."

"I haven't gotten it yet."

"You will."

"You don't know that."

I don't. My mory doesn't cover her personal career. Just broad strokes of the show's tiline.

"I know you. You'll kill the audition."

She drinks. Sets down her glass. Looks at seriously.

"Stuart?"

"Yeah?"

"If I get this. If they cast . That's—" She pauses. "—six months in New York."

There it is.

The thing we're not saying.

"We'll figure it out," I hear myself say.

"Will we?"

"We have a month before you even know. No point planning for sothing that might not happen."

"But if it does—"

"Then we'll talk about it. Really talk. Figure out what makes sense."

"Long distance?"

"Maybe. Or maybe—I don't know. We'll figure it out then."

She nods. Drinks more wine. "You're right. No point borrowing trouble."

"Exactly."

But the trouble's already borrowed. It's sitting between us at her kitchen counter. A six-month question mark that could end this.

Two hours later, we've killed the wine bottle.

Penny's playlist is doing sothing with 90s pop. She's dancing. Badly. I'm watching from her couch.

"Dance with !"

"I don't dance."

"Everyone dances when they're drunk."

"I'm not drunk."

"Then get drunk. This is a celebration."

She pulls up. I'm not drunk but I'm sothing. Loose. Happy for her despite the anxiety coiling in my stomach.

We dance badly together. She's laughing. Her hands are on my shoulders. Mine are on her waist.

"Thank you," she says over the music.

"For what?"

"For being happy for . Dan would've—" She stops. "Never mind. You're not Dan."

"Dan remains the worst."

"Forever the worst." She kisses . Tastes like cheap wine and joy. "I love you."

First ti she's said it sober. Declarative. Clear.

"I love you too."

"Good. Because if I go to New York—" She stops again. "No. Not tonight. Tonight we're celebrating. The other stuff happens later."

"Later," I agree.

But later's coming.

Six months in New York. My businesses rooted in LA. Neither of us can uproot our lives for the other without resentnt building.

This might be the beginning of our ending.

I push the thought away. Hold her closer. Let the terrible music and cheap wine and her laughter fill the mont.

Later happens later.

My penthouse. 2 AM.

Can't sleep.

Penny's photo is my phone background. From Vegas. She's mid-laugh, sun-bright against the pool. Genuinely happy.

If she gets this role, she should take it.

The thought forms clearly. Definitely.

This is her dream. The thing she moved to LA to eventually reach. Real theater. Real opportunity.

I can't ask her to stay. Won't ask her to stay.

But that ans—

mory flickers. Searching for information about Penny's New York career. Finding nothing. This isn't in the tiline I rember.

Which ans I'm already in divergent territory. My presence changed things. Gave Penny confidence to pursue bigger opportunities. Supported her in ways that made her more ambitious.

I created this situation by being good for her.

Ironic.

My laptop's open. Bitcoin's steady at $0.85 per coin. Apple stock at $195. Portfolio total: $138,000.

Financial success accelerating. Romantic success about to crater.

Can't have everything.

lissa left for Seattle. That hurt but felt mutual. Natural timing issue.

This would hurt worse.

Because Penny's not leaving . She's choosing her career. Which is right. Which I want for her.

But watching her choose sothing else—even sothing she should choose—will destroy .

I close the laptop. Stare at the ceiling.

One month until her audition.

Maybe she won't get it. Maybe the callback goes badly. Maybe they cast soone else.